


Slow

by Netrixie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netrixie/pseuds/Netrixie
Summary: Stiles wakes up with a werewolf blanket.





	Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Background: Scott does a dumb thing, Stiles gets hurt. This is the comfort part.

Stiles woke up slowly- carefully, like it was the most important thing he would ever do. He was warm, his body strangely- blissfully- pain free… and that was an odd thought, that being pain free should feel weird. Stiles reached for the thought lazily, his eyes still closed, not yet ready to acknowledge the world around him. He remembered a fight, but it didn’t seem important now, and he was so _warm_.... Something was moving slowly up the side of his neck, drawing a line from collar bone to ear, and back down. He lost himself in the soothing repetition of the motion for a while, the slow, steady trek up and down a comforting touch that almost had him sliding back into sleep.

The warmth that enveloped him held the knowledge that he was protected, and loved, and so _so_ cherished, and Stiles _needed_ to see it. He fought against the temptation to fall back asleep, and opened his eyes slowly. A tousled, messy mop of hair met his gaze, and the smile that came to his lips was as involuntary as it was fond. No wonder he had felt so safe, with this werewolf as a blanket.

Derek was a hefty, immobile weight on top of him, and he knew from past experience that it was as much for Derek’s peace of mind as for Stiles. He took stock of his body- whatever had been done to him was fixed by now- probably thanks to Lydia- and although he was still tired Stiles knew that in a day or so he’d be back to normal.

Derek rose up and stared down at him, eyebrows drawn together in a very familiar, concerned, way. But seeing the alpha suddenly helped everything make sense, and Stiles shut his eyes again and sighed.

“How badly was I hurt?” He asked, not really wanting to know. Derek buried his face in Stiles neck, and shook his head. Ah, Stiles thought, pretty badly then.

“Where’s Scott?” was his next question, and the alphas body tensed. Sharp teeth were suddenly bared against Stiles’ skin, and a low, rumbling growl reverberated through his body. “Okay… nevermind.” Stiles waited out the growl, freeing one hand from under Derek’s mass and running it soothingly over the other man's hair.

“Does Dad at least know where I am?” he persisted, needing to know that Derek hadn’t just run off with him and left everyone else in the dust….again. The wolf’s only response was to cover his teeth, and run his nose along the length of Stiles’ throat, sniffing delicately. The teen took that to mean something along the lines of ‘yes, Stiles, the sheriff knows I’m holding you captive until you feel better’, and smiled at the ceiling.

The silence became comforting, the only sound the low hum of a fan turning, and Derek’s breath huffing out over his skin as he returned to drawing his nose over Stiles neck. He knew this was how Derek coped with his getting hurt- marking him over and over until the only smell that touched him wasn’t pain or fear or anything but _them_. They’d talk it over later- Stiles was sure Derek was going to have a lot to say to Scott- but for right now, this was what they needed. And for once there was no reason to cut it short. So Stiles was going to lay here, under his wolf, safe and protected and loved, and enjoy every moment of it.


End file.
